


The Villain Killer

by DominatorBot



Category: Wander Over Yonder (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Detective Noir, F/M, Murder Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:00:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23932705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DominatorBot/pseuds/DominatorBot
Summary: After giving up her life of crime, Dominator now works as a Private Investigator along with her Bot Alex.  Together they set up their own agency but business is slow until one morning they are visited by Mr. H who is hiring them to find out who is killing Villains.  Reluctantly, Dominator takes the job.
Relationships: Lord Dominator/Wander (Wander Over Yonder)
Kudos: 8





	1. Prologue and The Case

# Wander Over Yonder

### PROLOGUE

It was late at night. The pubs and nightclubs were closing down. All the night owls were staggering home either drunk or high. Their shuffling feet and noisy singing rang through the streets. The smell of sweat and alcohol was thick in the air.

The street lights were dim, barely illuminating the mob and the one person who was neither drunk or high. He pushed through the crowd, desperate to get into one of the closing nightclubs. A red neon light above the main entrance glowed with the words “The Skull Zone”. That was the place he had to get to. Only Mr. H could protect him now.

Clutching a suitcase filled with personal belongings the shark-man shoved aside the last of the dopey crowd and ran up to the door way. But he was too late. The door was locked and the neon light was switched off, plunging the street into near darkness. All was silent.

There was a giggle.

“Who's there?” His head twitched about, trying to spot the origin of the sound.

Feeling very nervous Emperor Awesome tried banging on the metal door. He'd rather deal with an angry Mr. H than stay out here any longer. He remembered what had happened to Maldrake the Malfeasant, the contorted look on his face had sent chills down his fin.

Awesome had seen the body the previous night and at the time didn't think it was his concern, not until he received a strange phone call earlier that day. The person on the other end had said, “You're next.” Then he just laughed. Awesome had hung up the phone.

Fearing that he was about to become a victim and having nowhere else to turn to he packed up what he needed and came straight here.

But now he thought that this was probably what his would-be killer had wanted him to do. To get him out in the open. If that was the case then he was already dead.

Another giggle.

He clutched his suitcase close to his chest, as if it could keep him safe. “Leave me alone!”

Again, silence. No one had come to answer his knocking He was starting to get desperate and hammered both fists on the door. “Let me in! I've got money!” Mentioning money might help his chances even though it was a lie. In his hurry to escape he forgot to grab some cash on the way out. He was out on the street with a case full of clothes and no money. Was this seriously how it was going to end?

Still no answer. He put his ear up against the door to see if he could hear any one on the other side. Nothing. Whatever Mr. H was doing it must have meant bringing all the staff up to his office on the second floor.

“Screw this!” He yelled at the door before kicking it.

It started to rain. He needed to get somewhere safe but he had no idea where he could turn to. There was no Villain he could trust in this awful town. Except maybe...

He couldn't ask her for help, not after what she did to him and the others. But what choice did he have? If anyone could keep him safe it was definitely going to be her. Assuming that she agreed to help him. There was a lot of history between the two of them. It was possible she might just kill him on the spot.

Awesome felt like taking the risk. And if he was to die he would rather be by her hand than some random lunatic. Not a great choice to have but there was nothing else for it.

With his options dropping to near nothing and feeling like a sitting target he ran towards his new destination. The rain was getting heavier making the road in front of him harder to see but the good news was that he couldn't hear that horrible giggling.

A flash of lightning lit up the street. And for a split second he saw it. The thing that was chasing him. Somehow it had gotten in front of him, blocking his way to safety.

He had no choice but to turn back. Maybe his luck will pick up and Mr. H will be leaving “The Skull Zone” just as he gets back.

But that wasn't the case. The street was still empty, the rain still pouring and his stalker still on his tail.

Something laughed next to his ear.

He yelped and swung his suitcase around in a pathetic attempt to hit the thing behind him. Nothing happened. A tap on his shoulder. “AH!”

He spun around and slipped on the wet surface, falling on his backside. His suitcase landed next to him and snapped open, leaving his clothes to get soaked.

The thing came towards him.

“No, please, don't kill me! I'll give you all I have just don't kill me!” He screamed.

The thing either didn't hear him or didn't care. It came closer.

“Help! HELP!” His screams were cut off by the lightning.

Then there was nothing but the sound of rain and laughter.

## 

THE VILLAIN KILLER

### THE CASE

The morning light crept into the dust filled bedroom. A green leg hung off the edge of the bed. An empty bottle of alcohol lay on the floor. The quiet was violently disturbed when the sound of an alarm clock rang throughout the apartment, forcing the green woman to move her arm and silence the pesky noise-maker. She refused to accept the morning had arrived and desperately tried to switch the alarm off. But her unwillingness to open her eyes hindered her ability to do this so she did the next best thing and picked it and threw against the far wall, shattering it into pieces.

“Serves you right for trying to me up.” She tried to say but it came out as an unintelligible mumble.

After drifting off back to sleep she was soon annoyed by the harsh light from her window. She opened one eye and groaned. Now she _had_ to get up.

Throwing the bed sheets off she soon stumbled her way to the bathroom and switched on the light, and got a good look at her self in the mirror. She winced. Her hair was a mess, her mouth had dried saliva and vomit, her eyes were bloodshot with bags under them. Same thing every morning.

The water from her shower was cold but it helped wake her up. Then she dressed herself in a peach blouse, a black jacket and knee-length skirt with comfortable shoes and a fedora hat to complete the look. Now it was time to go to work.

When she had started her business the best part had been being able to make her own hours. But all that meant was that she rarely came in to work. But today was supposed to be different. She had promised her secretary that she would come in on time for once, and even made a bet on it. She cursed herself for ignoring her alarm clock. Then cursed herself again when she realised she needed to get a new one.

She entered the building where her office was housed. It was on the third floor and Dom didn't feel like walking the stairs. She took the elevator, knowing full well that there was a 50/50 chance it would break down. But what difference would it make? She was already late anyway.

Luckily it was one of those days where the elevator was still operational. The doors slid open on the third floor but stopped halfway. Dom squeezed through the gap then straightened her outfit.

The door to her office was at the end of the hall. A plain wood and glass door with the words “Second Chance Investigations” painted in gold over the glass. Dom had argued with her secretary about the choice in name. Her argument had been that most of her cases didn't end with second chances. To which her secretary replied, “It's not their second chance, it's yours.”

Dom scoffed at that but didn't argue any more. In a way it was right. She had done some bad things in the past, surely she was allowed a second chance. Sometimes she felt that she did while most days she didn't.

After tracing an index finger across the gold paint she opened the door and stepped in, officially starting her day. She removed her hat and tossed it onto the hat stand in the corner of the room.

“Morning, Alex.”

“Good morning, or is it afternoon? I can never tell with you.” The Bot said cheekily, with one of its arms stretched out.

Dom handed it the money then checked the time. “It's still morning you jerk.”

“And yet you still had to check.”

Dom grumbled to herself. If Alex wasn't so useful she would have scrapped that cheeky thing a long time ago. “Whatever. Any calls?”

“A few.”

“Really?” Dom never got more than one or two calls a week.

“They were all from Mr. Yemi. He wants to know if you made an progress in your investigation.”

“He's persistent, I'll give him that.”

“Has there been any progress?”

Dom took off her jacket and hung it behind her desk chair. “I followed the lead last night...”

“Before you got drunk?”

“Before I got drunk. He went home to his family, got dinner, watched TV for a while then had a bunch of friends over for a night of cards. No way I was going to break in with that many people about.”

“You going to try again tonight?”

“Of course.” She walked over to the water cooler and poured herself a glass. After taking a few sips she asked Alex, “Is that all? Just Mr. Yemi?”

“'fraid so.”

“Why is it so hard to get cases?”

“We're still pretty new to the P.I. game. What we need is a big case to get us noticed.”

“Maybe. I think it's more to do with my previous job.”

“Possibly, but the best way to disconnect you from that is for you to solve a case that gets printed in the papers.”

Dom sat down and tilted her chair backwards, putting her feet up on the desk. Talking about her last vocation brought back some memories. A lot of unpleasant ones. Her time as a criminal underboss was a violent one. A lot of people got hurt and most of it was by her own hands. She owned nightclubs, dealed in drugs, extortion. Anything that made her money. And for a while she was unmatched in the underworld. Until _he_ showed up.

There was a knock at her door. Alex got up to open it. What stepped in was the last thing Dom was expecting. The first to walk in was the small eyeball man called Peepers. He was the right hand man to the person coming in behind him. Mr. H himself. Formally known as Lord Hater.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” She asked as Alex closed the door behind them.

“Aren't you going to offer Mr. H a drink?” Asked Peepers.

Mr. H raised a hand. “That's fine, Peepers. I wouldn't trust a drink from her anyway.”

Ignoring his statement Dom grabbed a bottle and glass from her bottom drawer and poured one for herself. “I'm not a Villain any more, Hater. I don't do things like that.” She screwed the lid back on and returned the bottle to its resting place.

“Pity, might have been fun if you did.” He said with an evil smile.

Dom rolled her eyes. “Are you here for a particular reason?”

Mr. H pushed Peepers forward. “Show her.”

The eyeball stumbled forward then pulled out a thin dossier and tossed it onto Dom's desk. It slid into her empty hand. She flicked through the pages, taking a sip from her drink as she did.

“Someone killed Maldrake and Awesome?” She said with some amazement.

“We found Awesome's body outside the club this morning. Did you notice their faces?”

“Yeah.” She took another sip. “They were contorted. Like they had died laughing.”

“That's because they did. The autopsy report suggests that they laughed so hard their hearts just gave out.”

“So two Bad Guys are dead. Why did you come to me?”

“These deaths were clearly committed by the same person, meaning someone is targeting Villains.”

“And you want me to find the killer? Is that it? What, you don't have your own people to do this sort of thing? Why come to me?” She closed the case file.

Peepers was about to explain when Mr. H came forward. “You used to be one of us. I thought that would count for something.”

“It really doesn't.”

“I'm offering you a huge pay day. Isn't that enough?” Dom glanced over at Alex who was nodded enthusiastically.

“Is this file all you have?”

“There isn't much to go on. That's the most up-to-date information we have.”

Dom studied the images in the file again. Peepers was right, there really isn't much to go on. “This might be a tough case so I'll need to do some leg work first, see if I can find any leads. If not then I'll refuse the case but if I do I'll need an upfront payment for expenses. Alex will work out how much this will cost you.”

“Fine. But you better find a lead because I don't want to be spending my time looking over my shoulder.”

“Then you should quit the business. Turn over a new leaf.”

“And become like you? No thanks. Besides it's possible this killer might not see the difference.” And with that cryptic message Mr. H and Peepers left the office.

Alex closed the door and stretched to it's full height. “This is great! Finally a big case!”

Dom sighed. “Pity it's coming from Hater though. I would have preferred a more honest source.”

“Who cares? Someone is offing Villains. That's big news! We'll be in the spotlight for sure.”

“That's what worries me.” She looked at the images of Maldrake and Awesome. Their faces frozen in painful laughter. A shiver ran down her spine.


	2. The Wanderer

The Wanderer

Eight Months Earlier

It was a warm, bright morning when Wander woke up. The light from the sun poured in through the window. What was a cold, dark room before was replaced with something Wander found much more appealing. After doing some light exercise he sat in a meditative pose and quietly hummed to himself.

Across the way from him a female voice complained. “Hey, do ya mind? I'm trying to get some sleep.”

Wander perked up. “Oh, my apologies! I didn't know there was anyone else here.”

“There's always someone in here.” She tapped a metal bar with her knuckles. The sound rang out. “Someone's always breakin' the law.”

“I was sleeping on a park bench. Didn't think I was hurtin' nobody.” He shrugged. He knew it was against the law but wasn't sure why that was the case.

“I never said the laws made sense.”

“Hey, you two can go. Get your things at the desk and don't get into any more trouble!” The officer pushed a red button near the end of the hall and the bars to their cells quickly slid open. Wander walked out and saw his opposing cellmate up close. “Woah! You're a Zbornak!”

“Wow, you have working eyes. Good for you.” The Zbornak pushed passed Wander and followed the signs to the exit.

“You're in a grumpy mood today.”

The Zbornak scoffed. “How do you know I'm not grumpy every day? We've never met before.”

Wander smiled. “Call it a hunch.”

The Zbornak rubbed her eyes. “Look, I'm not here to make friends with strangers. I need to go home and deal with this... mess.”

It was at that moment when Wander noticed the bruise in the Zbornak's right eye and that she was walking with a slight limp. He sensed a sadness in her, and it wasn't about the wounds.

“Why don't I buy you a coffee? You look like you need one.”

“Why would you do that? And what if I don't like coffee?”

“Heck, it doesn't matter what you drink, so long as you're not doing it alone!”

“And what if I want to be alone?”

“That's up to you, of course. If you change your mind just let me know.” He skipped off ahead of her and spoke with the desk sergeant for a few seconds. The uniformed man disappeared behind a door and came back with a big green hat.

“You actually wear that?”

“All the time! When I'm not in the slammer that is.”

“You're a weird little guy.”

“Thank you!”

“Name.” The desk sergeant said.

“Sylvia.”

“One moment.” He went behind again and came back with a purse. Sylvia took it from him a sifted through it. “Hey, where's my knuckle dusters?”

“They have been confiscated.”

“But I didn't even use them!”

“And now you never will.”

Sylvia felt like slugging the guy right there but her good sense got to her, this time. “Fine.”

They left the police station and walked down the marble steps to the pavement and awkwardly stood silently for a few seconds. Wander opened his mouth to speak but Sylvia got in first, “Okay, I'll take that coffee.”

“Great!” Wander swooped his hat around and onto his head. “I saw a nice looking place when they hauled me in last night.”

Sylvia sniggered. “How are you this happy?”

“I always look for the positives in life.”

“Uh huh. And what's so positive about being thrown in the drunk tank for a night?”

“Well, we met in there didn't we?”

His words had taken her by surprise. It also made her more cautious around him. No one was this nice to her. What was his angle? She had a feeling that he was going to ask her for something. A favour maybe?

“Here we are! After you.” He pulled the door open.

“Yeah, I don't do chivalry.”

“Oh.” He let the door close.

Sylvia smiled. “Better.”

She went through the door herself with Wander following close behind. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted up his nose, making his mouth water. He could smell the various syrups and identified each one. Sylvia had a look of someone who had been dying of thirst and had finally found some water. Contrary to what she suggested before, Wander could tell that Sylvia loved coffee.

“What'll you have?” Wander asked.

They went up to the counter together and ordered their drinks. Wander paid for them after reaching into his hat and pulling out the exact cash. When they were seated Sylvia asked, “That hat of yours, is it special?”

“Very special. It always gives you what you need.”

“Sounds useful.”

“I try not to abuse it though. Don't want to hurt its feelings, you know?”

“Oh yeah, for sure.” She gave him a look that she thought he was crazy but she wasn't too bothered by it. “Thanks for the coffee, I really needed that.”

Wander caught himself staring at her bruised eye.

“You want to know how I got this?”

“I'm curious, but you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.”

“Good, because I don't.”

He needed to change the conversation, take her mind off of whatever was occupying it. “This is a real nice town. Most folks seem friendly enough.”

Sylvia snorted. “You haven't been here long. You don't know how bad this place can be.” There was an edge to her voice.

“How bad is it?” He asked with more interest than he intended.  
“Let's just say you're lucky that you were found by the police first last night. You could have been robbed for all you have.”

“But all I have is this hat.”

“They would have taken that.”

Wander instinctively held the sides of the hat. “It can't be that bad?”

Sylvia sighed. “It really is though. I've seen some things.”

Wander desperately wanted to ask her more about what she meant but the look in her eyes told him that she wouldn't want to discuss anything like that right now.

Then, without prompting, she said, “It's this stinkin' place. I feel like every bit of good I do ten more bad things happen. I try to help people and all I get is a beat down and a night in a cell. Helping folks is for suckers.”

“I understand. Sometimes you think all the good you do just goes to waste, that it's not worth it.”

She finished the last of her coffee. “Yeah.”

“But what if I told you that you can make a difference?”

“How?”

“With a smile on your face and plenty of love in your heart.” He made a heart shape with his hands and spoke without a hint of irony.

“Oh, you're one of _those_ people.”

“I don't know what that means, but my attitude to life has never failed me before.”

“Uh huh. And yet you still ended up in a cell.” She pushed her chair back and stood up. “Again, thanks for the drink. It was actually nice talking with you, even if you are a strange little guy.”

“You are most welcome. I hope we can do this again.”

“Maybe we will. Who knows?” Sylvia left the coffee shop. Wander watched her as she walked down the street and out of his field of view. He wondered if he would ever see her again.

That next night Wander saw her again.

And she looked very different. She was in an all-black outfit with dark face paint concealing her features. Wander only knew it was her because how often do you see Zbornaks so far from their home? After all the years he spent travelling the world he only ever came across a few.

Sylvia did a double-take when she saw him waving to her across the street. “Hey, Sylvia!”

“Wander? What are you doing here? You better leave before things get rough.” She was annoyed at his sudden appearance. This could mess up her whole night.

Three large men came out of the shadows behind Wander. Sylvia recognised them. “I ran into these guys while exploring the city. They came at me with knives and such. You were right, they did want my hat!”

Sylvia crossed the street. “Wait, what?”

“I started talking to them and before you know it we came to an understanding.”

The criminal nearest to Wander stepped up, his eyes red from crying, snot dripping from his nose. “He helped me understand where my pain was coming from. Now that I know myself a little more I want to be better!”

“Are you serious?”

“Very.” He said after sniffing.

“But how?” Sylvia asked.

Wander could tell she was upset, but wasn't sure why. “People fall into crime for many reasons. Sometimes all they need is a friendly ear for them to talk to and to be shown a little kindness. And uh, why are you dressed like that?”

“I was supposed to beat these guys down. They've been terrorizing this neighbourhood for the past month.”

“And now they won't any more. Isn't that right fellas?”

They all nodded their heads in agreement.

Sylvia shook her head but had a grin on her face. “I have to admit, that's pretty impressive. But it won't work on everyone.”

“Maybe not, but it can't hurt to try.”

“Not unless you go after Dominator or Mr. H.”

“Who are those two?”

“Only the nastiest bosses to run the underworld. Mr. H operates at the “The Skull Zone” while Dominator holds up at “The Lava Pit”. But I wouldn't bother trying to reason with those two. They'll beat you and leave you in the gutter if they don't kill you.”

“They sound pleasant.”

“Promise me you won't try to talk to them. I can't have your death on my conscience.”

“Don't worry, Sylvia. I'm not gonna die.”

“But you didn't prom...”

He was already half-way down the street, waving to her as he ran. “See ya later, Syl.”

Sylvia groaned and chased after him.


End file.
